


Moments

by xanzpet (gleefulmusings)



Series: Facets [4]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Season/Series 03, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 05:51:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gleefulmusings/pseuds/xanzpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moments were all they had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moments

He leaned back against the brick wall of one of the anonymous warehouses in the commercial section of Sunnydale and sighed heavily, smiling as he felt the fumbling fingers begin to unzip his pants, trying in vain to keep the ecstatic anticipation at bay.

Best not to rush things, after all. Take it slow, for it might never happen again.

Of course, it had been _not happening_ for several weeks now, right under everyone's noses, and wasn't that just delicious? He was experiencing no guilt, no taciturnity. Indeed, the fear of being caught and exposed only added to the thrill.

He sighed again, more gently this time, as eager lips gently kissed the head of his cock. His lover's skillful ministrations had been a welcome surprise. He had expected the tenderness and the exquisite care; but the eagerness, the willingness, the realization that he had been wanted in this way was far more powerfully seductive than the acts themselves.

He fisted his lover's dark hair in his hands, marveling at its silkiness. Strange that a man's hair should be so soft, tresses caressing his fingers like delicate kisses. He groaned at the sensation of teeth gently raking down his shaft; not enough to be painful, but more than enough to be memorable.

The dexterous tongue burned every ridge, every vein, every cell; an intoxicating and oxymoronic warmth which had been gloriously unexpected and addictive.

It wasn't love, what they had, but it was more than lust. It wasn't friendship, either, but it was acceptance, and maybe that was more important.

Maybe it was more important to know your lover than to love them. Maybe it was more important to respect them than to like them.

Their trust was uneasy, but it was present. It was new and weird and provocative and heightened the passion.

They made love in the dark not to be concealed, but to expose their vulnerability to each other, to impress upon themselves that these stolen moments might be fleeting, that everything could just stop at a moment's notice. It was easier to think both could walk away from each other, together, before either decided to leave.

There were no words, no declarations of permanence. There were just tongues and breathy catches and smoldering eyes, and it was enough. Maybe one day it might not be. Or maybe, one day, it would be everything.

Xander turned soft eyes down at Angel and traced the vampire's cheekbone with a calloused finger.

"Such a good boy," he whispered.


End file.
